


Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boys

by alienbiarcher



Series: Six Thousand and Counting [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Ace!Aziraphale, Ace!Crowley, Adam Tries to Help, Canon Compliant, Crowley and Aziraphale are both oblivious idiots, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Trans!Newt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-07 18:24:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19215010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienbiarcher/pseuds/alienbiarcher
Summary: Aziraphale stays over at Crowley’s place for a while after Armageddon almost happened and Crowley is quite happy with the arrangement until he finds out Aziraphale’s bookshop was restored. Little does he know that Adam made a couple of changes, which allow Aziraphale to keep his precious books and Crowley to keep his precious Aziraphale.OR, What if Crowley and Aziraphale live together for a month before realizing the bookshop is back, and that month changes everything.





	1. Theory of Love & One Confused Ex-Antichrist

**Author's Note:**

> what's that meme ? started making it , had a breakdown , bon appetit ? that sounds about right !
> 
> basically , idk what this is , but I had this idea for a while and really wanted to write it . sorry in advance kfjgsdjfjl
> 
> ( also sorry for the title - gods know i'm bad at those )

After defeating the Four Horsemen, flipping off Gabriel and Beelzebub and having the final stand-off with Satan himself, both Anathema and Newton and Madame Tracy and Shadwell swiftly left to their respective homes. Adam’s three friends followed suit, suddenly a little terrified of what their parents might think of all this, especially after seeing Mr. Young’s reaction. Crowley and Aziraphale, on the other hand, decided to stick around for just a bit in order to try and explain what exactly happened with Adam to Mr. and Mrs. Young. Or well, not _exactly_ what happened. The point was that they were set to make all this a little easier for Adam, since the kid had already been through quite a lot.

And by they we, of course, mean Aziraphale, who was the one talking to Mr. and Mrs. Young in their little kitchen, while Adam and Crowley were left to their own devices in the garden. (Adam’s parents presumably thought they were leaving their son with an adult, while they were trying to wrap their head around the story Aziraphale made up to make everything that had happened to Adam and them seem a little less on the supernatural and a little more on the “digestible for humans” side. Crowley was, however, no adult, which is what he was trying to explain to Adam).

“But aren’t you like… old?”, the boy asked, confused.

“Oh yes, I am. Thousands of years old, extremely ancient”, Crowley replied, which Adam responded to with a facial expression that was trying to convey “see? I was right all along!” as accurately as possible without actually speaking.

“No, but I am a demon too”, Crowley explained, looking up at the starry sky, “We don’t really have all those terms. Adult and whatnot. But, even if we had, I wouldn’t be one of the adults for sure. At least not one of the responsible kinds you leave your kids with. And it’s quite a bad idea to leave your kids with a demon in the first place, no matter how responsible they might be”.

“My parents don’t believe in supernatural, though, so it’s not like they’re being irresponsible on purpose! They would never leave me here with you, if they knew you were a demon”, Adam said defensively.

“Of course”, Crowley responded rather softly, “I see you care about them quite a bit”.

Crowley smiled. It wasn’t something he would typically say, however it was nice seeing the kid having a home he loves and wants to protect so much. Beyond anything, the demon genuinely understood the feeling.

“Yeah”, Adam responded, breathing out, “It’s just nice that we all love each other and everything is going to come back to normal soon. I’ve always loved my parents, though. And they’ve always loved me. And each other. Though my mom did try to explain that there’s some kind of a difference between how they love each other once. I didn’t really understand it”. 

“Well”, Crowley said, “There are different kinds of love. There’s the type that your parents have – it’s all the romantic lovey-dovey stuff you see in movies”.

“Like kisses?”, Adam asked. 

“For some people – sure, but not always. Kisses and such are more of a way to express your love rather than the love itself. Does that make sense?”

“Not… really?”

“Well it’s like – look. You love your friends too, right? Those three little guys of yours. And sometimes you hug and high five or whatever it is you do. But some people just aren’t huggers. Or high-fivers, for that matter. They don’t really want all that touching stuff. But that doesn’t mean they love you any less. They just express their love differently. Not through hugs and such, but through – I don’t know – giving you gifts or saying how good you are at something”.

“Now I get it! It’s like when Wensley insists on hugging me whenever we meet – and I really don’t mind – but Brian prefers to just wave. It means the same thing, but just looks differently”.

“Basically”, Crowley shrugged.

“Wait”, Adam said after some contemplation, “But if the different kinds of love aren’t really about what someone does to the other person, then what are they about?”

“Well”, Crowley dragged the word lazily, “It’s just a feeling. Hard to describe, really. There is a clear distinction between how your parents love each other and how your parents love you and how you love your friends. You might already see the difference between the last two. You do need to feel the first one to understand it, though. You don’t have to, of course – not every love is for everybody. I, for example, have never really had any of that love you and your parents have because I’ve never really had a family. And that’s alright too. But love’s really hard to put into words, kid. You either gotta feel it, or maybe try to read some poetry if you’re bored enough”.

“What about you and Aziraphale?”, Adam asked after a bit of silence.

“What about us?”

“What kind of love do you have?”

“That’s a harder question than you think, kid”.

“Why?”

And maybe it was the whiskey that Crowley was drinking throughout the whole evening and everyone thought was water (can’t stress this enough, never leave your kids with a demon). Maybe it were the stars that he didn’t see that often because he spent most of his time in a crowded city. Or maybe it was the thought that everyone eventually experiences heartbreak and the kid might as well find out about it now. Whatever it was – Crowley decided to go all in. It’s not like he had that many people (or anyone, really) to talk about this with, might as well be an eleven-year-old ex-antichrist. Sounds right up his alley. 

“Well, there’s usually a couple of people in a relationship. Sometimes it’s two, sometimes it’s more and it’s not like they feel this one love that they share. They both have their separate unique feelings. And a lot of the time those feelings match up – at least in general. Like with you and your friends or your parents. But sometimes, there can be a person that loves someone in one way, but that someone either loves them back, but differently, or – at times – doesn’t love them back at all”.

“So do you and Aziraphale love each other differently?”, Adam asked.

“Well, yes and no”.

“What does _that_ mean?”, the kid asked, his voice filled with an irritation one only feels, when they finally start understanding something really complicated and then get confused all over again.

“Aziraphale loves me. At least I’m pretty sure he does on most days”, Crowley laughed self-consciously, “But he loves me like you love your three friends. And I love him like your friends love you. But, I also love him the way your mom loves your dad. And he – well – he doesn’t”.

“And how do you make him love you like that?”

“Oh kid, you don’t”, Crowley smiled sadly, “You just deal with it”. 

But Adam wasn’t convinced that nothing could be done. Besides, after everything that’s happened, he absolutely hated seeing people (or demons, for that matter) being sad. So, after Aziraphale and Crowley left, he very carefully asked his mother how does a person go about falling in love with someone (the way she fell in love with dad, of course – Adam was quite proud of finally understanding the idea). His mom told him a lot of things, but one that especially caught his attention was “spending a lot of time with someone and enjoying their company”.

And after thinking on it for a bit, Adam came to a conclusion that Aziraphale – considering how much he missed his poor burned down bookshop – obviously spent too much time reading books. And even though Adam understood the appeal of reading from time to time, he still found time to hang out with his friends and watch TV with his parents, so clearly what Aziraphale needed is some time away from the bookshop. Of course, it was going to return fully intact soon, but Adam could still change it up a bit in his mind, therefore bringing that change into the real world too. And that’s when he came up with his genius plan.


	2. Domestic Life & A Little Bit of Heartbreak

What Adam didn’t know, of course, was that Crowley and Aziraphale already spent plenty of time together. Aziraphale did enjoy his books quite a bit, but he enjoyed Crowley’s company just as much. 

However, the amount of time the angel and the demon spent together increased ever since they started living in the same apartment. (Which was, of course, a temporary arrangement that Aziraphale only agreed to because he simply didn’t have a place to stay at any longer. Or at least that’s what both Crowley and him were silently convincing themselves in, for slightly different reasons).

Nevertheless, the new living arrangement, no matter how temporary, did change their lives quite a bit. For starters, they spent almost every second of their time with each other – so much so that they now went on a stroll in St. James Park twice a week, because there was no longer any need to go there for meetings, but Aziraphale missed its wonderful benches and loud ducks a great deal. 

Their life routines were merged together entirely. Crowley bought a record player and played Aziraphale’s favorite classical pieces all the time. (The record player wasn’t particularly new and actually rather vintage-looking, but he refused to buy a proper gramophone). Aziraphale got used to watching morning news, which Crowley invented and loved lots. (“They’re entirely useless, completely uninformative and so bloody weird! One of my greatest works”). 

Crowley got a habit of going to the shop every now and again to pick up Aziraphale’s favorite snacks and cologne. (He even bought a fridge and got himself a credit card so he could miracle loads of money onto it directly and then forget about them entirely for a while. We do hope he’s not inflating the economy too much, though that would be very much in style of his previous demon work). Aziraphale changed the way Crowley sees plants (and Crowley’s plants see life) entirely – he complimented them and watered them generously (but not too much) and eventually refused to let Crowley speak to them at all, since he (as usual) canceled out most of his work and it wasn’t benefiting them this time around. 

Crowley got into a habit of making hot chocolate every evening because he knows that’s when Aziraphale is going to dive deep into a book, not getting out of it for hours, and the only thing he accepts at those times apart from silence is hot chocolate. (In addition to that, Crowley was also listening to Aziraphale ramble about the books he read every evening, and even though Crowley still hadn’t picked up a single book and had no interest in trying, he was very genuinely interested in everything the angel had to say). Aziraphale made some slight changes to Crowley’s car and the latter didn’t even mind – the angel primarily added some essentials like a blanket, a couple of books, some snacks and a fire distinguisher (just in case). 

But, the biggest change that had happened both in Crowley’s routine and Aziraphale’s life were books. For Aziraphale, it was, of course, the fact that he was no longer surrounded by them and had a much smaller collection. For Crowley, it was the fact that his life started revolving around them quite a bit. He bought a few bookshelves for his apartment and visited the old bookshops in the area at least three times a week both with and without Aziraphale. And that was in addition to this one particular bookshop on the opposite side of town Aziraphale loved immensely that Crowley visited as much as he could, trying to find special editions and replacements for Aziraphale’s burned favorites. (All this Crowley did on his own will, without any initial suggestions from the angel, which particularly touched Aziraphale).

In that month of Crowley and Aziraphale living together, not once had the angel visited the bookshop or even passed by that area. When Crowley’s car turned up perfectly fine next to his apartment, Aziraphale asked him to check up on the bookshop too, but it was, unfortunately, still burned down. And since it was definite that no books could’ve survived in the fire and seeing the bookshop in the horrible state it was in would be too painful for the angel, there was no use going there. However, on one fateful evening, when Crowley was driving his dear Bentley from the previously mentioned bookshop on the other side of town, he got so distracted by one particular line in Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen that he took the wrong turn and ended up in the very area of the bookshop. And initially Crowley thought he might be dreaming or mixing up two identical streets of London, but no. Soon enough, it was obvious – the bookshop was back, just as it had been before the Armageddon started. And that made Crowley feel absolutely ecstatic and rather terrible at the same time.

The good thing about the bookshop being back was, of course, the very fact that it was back and what it meant for Aziraphale. Crowley had to watch him struggle without his absolute favorite thing in the world for a month and it was almost as bad for the demon as it was for the angel. However, Crowley was also a rather selfish being. And even though he was currently driving to his apartment at an even higher speed than usual to bring his dearest angel the good news, an annoying voice in the back of his head kept screaming that everything will go back to how it was before. Aziraphale was leaving him.

That was, of course, rather dramatic of the stupid voice – Aziraphale wasn’t actually going anywhere. Or well, he was certainly going back to live in his bookshop and the two would consequently be spending much less time together, but it wasn’t the end of the world. Although, it felt like it was. To Crowley, this felt like the actual Armageddon. 

“Angel!” Crowley shouted, swinging the door of his apartment open with a snap of his fingers, “I have fantastic news for you”.

“Yes?”, Aziraphale asked curiously, peeking out of the kitchen. He was wearing a soft beige bathrobe and his hair was an adorable mess – the voice in Crowley’s head reminded him that he’ll never see that again. Crowley told the voice to fuck off, “Did you find some of the books I asked for?”

“Well, in a way”, Crowley dragged the words out, smirking, “I found all the books. Each and every one of them”.

Aziraphale gave him a confused look.

“Your bookshop’s back!” Crowley smiled. 

Aziraphale's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again and finally, the angel laughed, “My God!”, he exclaimed and – surprising both Crowley and himself – ran up to the demon and hugged him tightly. 

The hug lasted too long for it to be just friendly and deprived of any other deeper meaning, however neither the angel nor the demon admitted it – the latter writing it off as wishful thinking, the former blushing and feeling rather shy, prompting himself to ignore the weird feeling in the pit of his stomach entirely and quickly change the topic back to where it belonged.

Aziraphale miracled his outfit and hair, rushing out of the apartment, “Please, Crowley, will you take me there now?”

Crowley smirked, “I bet this is gonna be the first time you’re grateful for my speedy driving”.

“It’s not speedy”, Aziraphale said, sitting down in the car, “It’s irrational and dangerous. That being said, you are absolutely right. Please do drive as fast as you can”.

Thanks to Crowley’s crazy driving (which was for once endorsed by Aziraphale), the pair reached their destination in no time. The look Aziraphale had, when he saw his bookshop, was one Crowley’s never seen on his face before. (Perhaps, if the demon paid more attention to the way Aziraphale looks at him all the time, he would realize it was far from the first time the angel wore that expression, but alas, Crowley thought it was the first time Aziraphale’s been this happy).

Everything went quite well at first. Aziraphale stepped into his bookshop and was gleefully looking around, touching all the books and looking through them as if to make sure they’re really there. The first change the angel mentioned was a series of children’s books that previously wasn’t there, which he didn’t particularly mind. But then, Aziraphale turned to the left and saw that there were no longer any stairs that led to the second floor of the bookshop, which was his living area. The bookshop was now only and just that – a bookshop. 

Aziraphale couldn’t possibly go back to living there, because there was simply nowhere to live...


	3. A Missing Floor & A Lot More Heartbreak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks everyone so much everyone for your lovely comments - they made me so happy and i'm eternally grateful for all of them and all of you <3

“Crowley?” Aziraphale called out with that small, terrified voice of his that he only used in particularly bad situations.

“Angel?” Crowley rushed to his side, worried, “Is something wrong?”

“There's…”, Aziraphale started slowly, “There's no stairs. And I don’t think there’s any _up_ stairs”.

“What?” Crowley asked, confused.

“There was a staircase here. And now there isn’t. It’s just… gone. My entire second floor is gone!”

Crowley started touching the wall that replaced the stairs to check, if it’s proper and solid and not some kind of a practical joke by Adam. It was solid. As if there was no staircase at all. And then it hit him.

“There’s never been any staircase here”, Crowley said.

“No, but there was-“

“You don’t get it, angel. There was a staircase for us, but for Adam? There wasn't, for whatever reason. And now – just like he’s never been the son of Satan, there has never been a staircase here”.

“But- but what do I do? I can’t go back to living at your place!”

And that hurt. Because the way Crowley took those words was rather heartbreaking and very much in style of how dramatic and self-deprecating the demon could sometimes be. The way he understood it: Aziraphale was tired of him. Like the proper “you are a nightmare and I need a break from you” kind of tired. It kind of made sense. Sure, they’ve been friends for six thousand years, but they’ve never spent as much time together as they have in this past month. What if Crowley was just way too annoying to handle 24/7? What if there was just too much of him? 

Suddenly, Crowley felt so devastated that one could clearly see what was going through his head despite the sunglasses that were pretty good at covering his emotions most of the time. (Don't tell anyone, but that was one of the main purposes of the sunglasses. Well, that and hiding his eyes, of course).

Aziraphale - who wasn't that bad at reading Crowley in the first place - quickly noticed the change in his friend’s expression and rushed to fix his mistake.

“I didn’t mean it like that”, the angel said grabbing Crowley’s arm, “I just meant-“

Crowley turned around, giving him a challenging look. Aziraphale opened his mouth, but then sighed and closed it back again, as if he was trying to say something, but – for whatever reason – couldn’t.

“I just think it’d be best for everyone if everything came back to how it used to be”, the angel finally spoke up, letting Crowley’s hand go and fixing up his already perfectly straight jacket.

Crowley closed his eyes for a moment and breathed in. Six thousand years. It’s been six thousand years since Crowley fell in love with Aziraphale. And all this time he’s been trying to be selfless, thinking that what Aziraphale and he shared was enough. 

And the truth was, even after all those years, it _was_ enough. And it wasn’t even about Crowley being selfish or selfless, it was simply about the fact that the demon could hardly live without Aziraphale. A life without the angel wouldn’t just be boring, it would be unbearable. Because Crowley’s never really had anyone. Before he fell, he was a damn useless angel: asking too many questions, hanging around the wrong people. After he fell (or rather sauntered vaguely downwards), he didn’t really fit in either: the things other demons were doing seemed stupid or downright terrible. And why does no one talk about how many rules demons have? It is, of course, expected of angels – they are law-abiding by nature, but demons have no business having any sort of structure, much less rules! But then Crowley met Aziraphale, and – despite the angel’s repeated attempts to distance himself from the demon and his own feelings – it was quite clear that he valued their friendship and valued Crowley as a person. And that’s never happened to Crowley before.

So, he was fine with it all. Of course, in an ideal little world, he would hold his angel’s hand while they drank champagne at the Ritz and he’d tell him he loved him whenever he pleased, but the world was by no means ideal (as well as not very little). And Crowley was enjoying what he had already – an incredible person by his side, his best friend, who loved him dearly (albeit, differently from the way Crowley loved him).

“Sure”, the demon finally answered, “What I think we should do right now is pay a visit to a certain someone, who I’m pretty sure is responsible for all this mess”.

Aziraphale presumed that Crowley was referring to Adam, though he was pretty sure that even if it was indeed the boy’s fault, he most likely didn’t do it intentionally (why would he?) and could hardly fix it now. However, the angel still nodded in agreement, and both of them headed out of the bookshop to the Bentley right away. Crowley had an idea of what might have happened, and he was ready to pray and beg to be wrong.

Finding Adam was easier than Crowley and Aziraphale initially thought it would be. They could hardly visit Mr. and Mrs. Young and ask them where their son was since that’d be quite weird, so they were fully expecting that they’d have to run around Tadfield, frantically searching for the boy. But, on their way to the village, they saw a couple of kids playing in the forest – and right enough, those kids were Adam and his three friends.

The second Aziraphale and Crowley saw the kids, the demon hit the breaks and jumped out of his car, loudly closing the door behind him. (Aziraphale was rather confused about just how angry Crowley seemed to be about the whole situation).

“Adam!”, Crowley called out, marching angrily towards the boy.

“Mr. Crowley, Mr. Aziraphale!” Adam exclaimed, “What are you doing here?”

“What the-“, Crowley started, but was stopped by Aziraphale, who finally caught up with his friend’s fast pace and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it meaningfully. Sometimes Crowley hated how touchy the angel could be.

“Adam”, Aziraphale started calmly, “Would you happen to know anything about the fact that my bookshop no longer has a second floor?”

The boy looked around, not sure how to respond.

“No?” he finally said, unsure. 

Crowley couldn’t stand waiting any longer, “Is it because of what we talked about a month ago?”

Adam just blinked, but that was enough of an answer for Crowley.

“You stupid-stupid child”, he muttered under his breath.

“What are you talking about?” Aziraphale asked, confused.

“I told you you can’t force it on someone!” Crowley said bitterly, ignoring his friend’s question and still addressing Adam.

“I’m sorry”, the kid said, a little terrified.

“It’s alright”, Aziraphale said softly, stepping in once again. Crowley raised his eyebrows at him as if the angel knew what was happening and should have understood how big of a mistake Adam had made.

“It really is quite alright”, Aziraphale pressed on, looking at Crowley as sternly as possible, “I’m sure you haven’t done anything terribly wrong”.

“Haven’t done anything terribly wrong?”, Crowley exclaimed, “Angel, if you only knew-“

“I’m sorry”, Adam said once again, “I was only trying to help. You seemed so sad about it”.

“I’ve been sad about it for the past six thousand years, kid! You should’ve just left it be”.

“I am really sorry”, Adam said a final time, looking down at his shoes. He wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong, but it was quite obvious that a sad Crowley was better than an angry Crowley, so angering him further would be a big and rather stupid mistake.

“No need to apologize, really”, Aziraphale spoke up once again, “I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation, but I won’t bother you with asking for it. You go on, kids – go play! Thank you very much for your help”.

And with those words, the angel smiled and signaled for Crowley to follow him back to the Bentley. His friend was obviously hiding something from him and even though Aziraphale was sure the kid was the one, who made half his bookshop disappear, he was also quite certain that Crowley’s words were what gave Adam the idea to do so in the first place.

“So, what was that about?” the angel asked, sitting down in the car and closing the door behind him.

“Nothing important”, Crowley huffed, clearly embarrassed about something.

“It’s quite important to me”, Aziraphale said and after not getting an answer from the demon, continued, “My bookshop is down one floor and I have no place to sleep, so it really _is_ rather important”.

“Then you should’ve asked the stupid kid”.

“Well, I’m asking you”.

“Look”, Crowley sighed after a moment of silence, “It doesn’t really matter what caused it anymore – we can’t fix it anyway. We could fix your bookshop, though – move some books, find a place for a bed and all the essentials”.

“You said you’ve been sad about something for six thousand years”, Aziraphale looked at his friend, finally showing his real concerns, which were – as always – very much about Crowley.

“Drop it, angel – it doesn’t matter”.

“But we’ve been friends for six thousand years! Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because it _doen't matter_ ”, Crowley said firmly.

The rest of the drive went by in silence, but Aziraphale couldn’t stop thinking about whatever it was that could’ve made Crowley sad six thousand years ago and was still making him sad now. Until it clicked. Aziraphale wasn’t sure how it was connected to his bookshop or Adam, but it seemed that Crowley was sad about falling. Despite never showing a single sign of it, Crowley must’ve despised being a fallen angel, because him falling was the only significant thing that had happened six thousand years ago. Well, that and them becoming friends, but Crowley couldn’t possibly be disappointed in their friendship – otherwise he would’ve ended it a long time ago. 

After coming to this absolutely brilliant conclusion, the angel was a little disappointed in himself for not noticing it all earlier and absolutely set on making things a little easier for his fallen friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know some people expected this to go into the " oof i guess we really gotta live together now " direction , but miscommunication + pinning is my jam , so this is what we end up with :D  
> i hope you enjoyed this chapter and - once again - thank you for all the lovely comments <3


	4. Moments of Uncertainty & Helpful Witches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> saw the hc about newt coming out as a trans girl and absolutely fell in love with it , both because i wanted to see anathema with a girl and because i'm trans myself ! discussed it with a wonderful good omens gc that i'm in and we chose a beautiful name for her - andromeda . why ? three reasons : harry potter , greek mythology and space . take that as you will :D
> 
> thanks everyone so much yet again for all the amazing comments , i apprecite you immensely !

The next couple of days were somewhat of a nightmare for both Crowley and Aziraphale. For the angel, it was a nightmare, because nothing he’s said or done seemed to have been understood by his friend. For the demon, it was mostly because he was just utterly bloody confused by everything that the angel was doing.

What was Aziraphale doing that confused Crowley so much? - you might ask. Well, for starters he gave the demon an estimated number of seven speeches about how everyone chooses their own destiny and just because they are something that is generally considered bad, doesn’t mean they’re actually bad. In addition to that, the angel had been entirely too obedient, hadn’t said a word against any of his friend’s ideas and made sure to emphasize their friendship and how meaningful it was to him as much as possible.

“Ok, I can’t hold it in anymore”, Crowley said, visibly annoyed, as they were sitting in the small part of the bookshop that Aziraphale chose as his new living space, “What the hell is going on?”

“What do you mean?” the angel asked, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

“You know exactly what I mean, you’ve been acting very weird lately”.

“Well, people change”, Aziraphale said, “Maybe I’ve changed”.

“In the past six thousand years you’ve changed plenty, but this isn’t it”, Crowley pressed on, “Just tell me what’s happening”.

“Alright, well”, Aziraphale sighed, “Remember how you told me you’ve been sad about something for the past six thousand years?”

“Oh no, I haven’t told you anything – you just overheard it”.

“I was standing right next to you, that’s not _over_ hearing it – that’s just hearing it”.

“That’s not the point – I told you to drop it!”

“But, I figured out what it is!” Aziraphale said confidently, and Crowley’s heart just about stopped. Now, if the demon gave himself a second or two to think, he would’ve realized Aziraphale hadn’t actually figured it out. After all, if you find out your friend’s been in love with you for as long as you’ve known each other, your reaction would be nothing like what the angel had been doing ever since he “figured it all out”. But, Crowley didn’t exactly have the time to think. He only had time to panic. 

“Dear God”, he whispered, not even realizing what he’s just said.

“It’s quite alright”, Aziraphale said, smiling and putting his hand on Crowley’s. In Aziraphale’s mind, it was supposed to be a comforting gesture. Crowley’s mind was just spinning out of control.

“What are you-“, Crowley mumbled, looking at the angel’s hand on his, entirely mesmerized. 

“Don’t worry”, Aziraphale squeezed his friend’s hand, and Crowley blinked a couple of times to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, “I understand. It must’ve been so hard for you”.

Crowley just looked at the angel dumbfounded. 

“I can’t imagine how terrifying it was to fall from grace”, Aziraphale looked at his friend sadly, “And then regret it your entire life? Must be awful”.

It took Crowley a couple of seconds to understand how bad of a mistake Aziraphale made and – more importantly – how bad of a mistake he almost made. Because Crowley was so confused and Aziraphale seemed so calm about it all that the demon was about to confess or kiss him or do _something_ that’d give him away and change their lives forever. He was now consciously thanking God for not letting that happen. 

“I-“, Crowley started, moving his hand away from Aziraphale’s, “You got it wrong, angel”.

“What?” 

“Or well”, Crowley sighed, “I wasn’t exactly thrilled about falling – I hardly fit in among the demons, you know that. But, I didn’t fit in as an angel either, so the whole thing is just really bloody complicated. The point is, though – the last time I was sad about it was a millennia ago”.

“So what are you said about, then?” Aziraphale asked, exasperated, “Please, Crowley – we are friends! We are on one side, remember? Just tell me what it is and I will try to help you”.

Crowley looked at him for a long second. This was his friend, his only friend. It was the person he loved and was in love with. But, he couldn’t possibly tell him, could he? But what if…

Crowley made a small step towards Aziraphale. 

And then a step back.

“I’m sorry”, he said, storming out of the bookshop, leaving Aziraphale alone, slightly upset and very confused. 

That was when Aziraphale lost his last bits of patience. If Crowley didn’t want to tell him what was going on, he would ask the only other person in the world that knew about it. Adam.

Getting to Tadfield without the Bentley was a little tricky – the only direct bus from London to the village was hours away, so Aziraphale had to hop from one bus to another, but he eventually got to his destination. Finding Adam was harder than it was last time, and Aziraphale did have to frantically run around the village for a while until he stumbled upon not Adam, but Anathema and had to stop for a polite chat.

“Well hello dear”, he said, stopping and smiling rather awkwardly.

“Oh, you are the book thief’s…”, she stopped, trying to find the proper word, “Companion?”

“Aziraphale. And you could say so”, he smiled – this time genuinely, the way he does whenever Crowley's mentioned, “How is your boyfriend doing?”

“Not my boyfriend”, Anathema corrected him, “My girlfriend, actually. She goes by Andromeda now”.

“How wonderful”, another genuine smile appeared on the angel’s face, “To see people discovering themselves and being who they truly are”.

“Yes, wonderful”, Anathema smiled in response, “But, what are you doing here? I didn’t think you’d ever return to Tadfield”.

“Well, neither did I”, he said, “Though this is a lovely village. I am, however, here looking for Adam”.

“What would you need Adam for?” she asked, sitting down on the nearest bench, inviting Aziraphale to join her, which he did gladly. 

“He knows something very important”.

“Oh?” Anathema was surprised, “Well, I’m afraid the whole Young family is on a vacation and won’t return for another week”.

“For Heaven’s sake”, Aziraphale muttered, “I can’t possibly wait that long”.

“Can I ask what this is about?”

“Well, it’s quite a long story”, the angel said politely, suddenly realizing that he has no one to talk to about this, but desperately needs to.

“I have all the time in the world”, Anathema said, “Let’s go to my cottage – have some tea and you’ll tell me all about it”.

“That would be wonderful”, Aziraphale nodded and the two headed in the direction of Anathema’s house.

They got there in just a few minutes and were greeted by Andromeda, who recognized Aziraphale in a manner similar to her girlfriend (though, she did call him Crowley’s significant other, which made the angel blush and swiftly correct the mistake). While Anathema’s girlfriend was making the three of them tea, Aziraphale was explaining everything that’s happened, and the farther the story went, the clearer everything was getting for his listeners.

“Aziraphale”, Andromeda started, after he finished his story, “If it wasn’t Crowley falling that’s made him so sad six thousand years ago, what else could it be?”

“Dear, if I knew that I wouldn’t be sitting here!” the angel exclaimed, “As I said, there are only two events of significance that had happened then: Crowley falling and us becoming friends”.

“It seems you just answered my girlfriend’s question”, Anathema smiled.

“But it can’t possibly be about our friendship!” Aziraphale said confidently, “If he didn’t want to be friends anymore, he would’ve told me years ago. Why would he want to be around someone he dislikes for six thousand years?”

“Then don’t think about dislike”, Anathema said, “Think in the opposite direction”.

“The opposite direction?” he asked, confused, “But, why would liking me make Crowley upset?”

“Well, maybe it’s because he likes you in a very inconvenient way”, Andromeda shrugged, taking a sip of her tea. 

“What does _that_ mean?” Aziraphale asked, feeling entirely out of the loop.

“God, you really do need everything spelled out for you”, Anathema sighed, “Falling is exactly what made him so sad six thousand years ago, but it’s not the kind of falling you think”.

“He is in love with you is what my girlfriend is trying to say”, Andromeda added to make sure the angel understood, “It’s quite obvious”.

And though Aziraphale was more than ready to question what the girls were saying, he quickly realized that he had nothing to dispute their claims with. Which meant only one thing: this entire time he was a complete and utter oblivious idiot, who could’ve had what he wanted long ago.

The angel said goodbye to Anathema and Andromeda practically at a speed of light, running out of their house. He needed to fix his mistake as soon as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well , i hope you enjoyed this chapter . finally , it dawned on aziraphale ! many thanks to our two witchy girlfriends for that ^^


	5. The Advantages of Sleeping & Love

Considering the previously described events, one might think that there is no person on Earth that is in more emotional distress right now than Aziraphale. We do, however, disagree and have someone else in mind – Crowley.

Ever since the demon stormed out of Aziraphale’s bookshop, his life started falling apart. He was always joking when he said that he didn’t so much fall as saunter vaguely downwards, but now it felt like a more accurate description of what happened to him both physically and emotionally when he fell from grace. Because what he felt then couldn’t possibly be compared to what he felt now. For the past six thousand years, the only thing that mattered to him was Aziraphale. There were the Earth and humans and other things Crowley could occasionally humor himself with, but nothing’s ever felt as real as Aziraphale. His feelings never felt real, until he remembered just how much he loved Aziraphale and suddenly he felt the most himself. Felt like he meant something – outside of being fallen and being a demon and being Anthony J. Crowley. He felt like a person. And now that he lost Aziraphale he felt empty. 

He was laying on his bed in a star-like manner and couldn't feel anything until he realized that his face was wet and he’s been apparently crying for the past thirty minutes and suddenly he felt so much that it was unbearable. 

Crowley tossed and turned on his bed, not sure what he was trying to achieve by doing that. He didn’t really need to sleep. However, it could sometimes be incredibly comforting to do so. Just lay down and drift into abyss – no worries, no regrets, just hours of nothingness. And he was really hoping he could fall into that abyss right now, but it turned out that crying and being in emotional turmoil doesn’t help much with falling asleep. So he just laid there, thinking and trying to stop thinking and thinking again, until he started crying so hard that his entire body was responding to the sobs, and then – finally – drifted off to sleep out of exhaustion (if exhaustion was even something demons could feel – humans certainly could, and Crowley felt more and more human every day).

Meanwhile, Aziraphale was in an entirely different mood. There was a voice in the back of his head, and it felt that perhaps Anathema and Andromeda were wrong and Crowley had something entirely different on his mind, but Aziraphale was honestly quite tired of that voice. He wasn’t sure where it came from (though, it did sound suspiciously like Gabriel), but the angel was sure he wanted to get rid of it. Six thousand years he didn’t even realize how in love he was with Crowley because of that voice. And when he finally understood the weight of his feelings on that empty lot in London with his precious books in hand, that voice told him to repress it. Sometimes it convinced him that Crowley simply didn’t feel the same and there would be no point, sometimes it dug deeper and reminded Aziraphale of his “duties” and of “wrong and right”. And frankly, the angel was tired of it. For once, he was set on listening to his own voice. 

So, when Aziraphale’s taxi stopped next to Crowley’s apartment building, he practically jumped out of the car, throwing way too much money at the driver (who, of course, didn’t mind) and went up to his friend’s flat as quickly as he possibly could. He hesitated a moment, not sure what to do, until finally ringing the bell once very politely and waiting by the door. When no answer came, Aziraphale rang once more, holding the button a little longer – still no answer. Finally, after a couple more attempts, the angel tried the door handle and, right enough, it wasn’t closed, so he let himself in.

Aziraphale stepped into the apartment carefully, slowly closing the door behind himself, as if the smallest noise could scare somebody off, and called out “Crowley?” After not getting a response, the angel started getting rather worried and went exploring the apartment. He checked everywhere, except for the room farther in the back behind the plant area. There were two doors there and a statue between them, which could’ve been just a statue, but could’ve also been implying exactly what Aziraphale thought it was implying. He checked the left room, but it was dark, small and – most importantly – empty. But then he opened up the door on the right, which – as it turned out – was the door to Crowley’s bedroom, and saw him. 

He was laying on the bed – same clothes he saw him in this morning, clearly asleep, though not the way he usually slept. Usually, Crowley would lie on a huge number of pillows, stretched out across the entire bed, but this time around he was laying backwards, his hands hugging his knees, looking almost like he was cold (which was – of course – impossible). However, a blanket laying on an armchair next to Crowley’s bed still caught Aziraphale's attention, and even though the angel knew it wouldn’t make much difference, he still picked it up and carefully covered Crowley with it, tucking in the edges. He decided to let him sleep for as long as he needed, while he’d wait for him there, further exploring the apartment which he rarely visited for reasons now much more obvious to him.

While Crowley was sleeping, the angel got a chance to go through the entirety of his apartment, breathing in all the tiny details (which there was admittedly not a lot of) and even had a chance to water the plants and talk to them (or rather whisper to them in order not to wake their owner up). Finally, he decided to make himself a cup of tea and after sitting down with it, heard some noises coming out of Crowley’s bedroom – he must've been awake.

In just a moment, the demon turned up in the kitchen, confirming the assumption. He looked sleepy and tired, his eyes red and a little swollen, the blanket Aziraphale gave him wrapped around his shoulders like a cape. Clearly a little disoriented at first, he finally fully woke up and, upon realizing who was in his apartment, nearly jumped.

“Aziraphale?” Crowley asked, his voice small and unsure. 

Aziraphale put his unfinished cup of tea on the table, standing up and coming up to Crowley. Every movement of his was soft and slow and ever so careful.

“Oh dear”, he said, “What have I done?”

And then the angel gently touched Crowley’s cheek – clearly red from crying. Crowley closed his eyes and breathed in, not sure what was happening and whether it was happening at all.

“I’m so sorry”, Aziraphale whispered.

“For what?” Crowley asked, looking the angel right in the eyes, desperately searching for an answer to one particular question.

“For not realizing it earlier and for not doing something about it, once I’ve finally realized it was there”, the angel said, “I love you”.

A kiss. Soft, loving, gentle. There was no heat in it because neither of them needed it - they already had enough of a spark. Their kiss was real, it was present, it was simply there – almost as if it was predetermined. As if the world was created for it to happen as if everything from the beginning of times was supposed to lead to this very moment. Just like their complicated relationship, it was underlining every second they’ve spent together, painting it with new colors over and over again.

They probably could’ve kissed ‘till the end of times – neither of them actually needed to breathe or do anything to survive, really, but there was a right moment to end it and they knew that kiss would be far from the last one. They knew there would be no last one, they had a whole eternity all to themselves. 

So, Crowley and Aziraphale simply held each other for a long time. They haven’t talked much, it wasn’t time yet, but they kissed and hugged and enjoyed the feeling of having each other close - the way they’ve always wanted. They went to bed together that night, falling asleep in each other’s arms. It was the first time Aziraphale actually slept, and it was the first time Crowley truly enjoyed sleeping. It was their most perfect arrangement thus far, and both of them doubted anything could transcend it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> crowley actually feeling things - what could be better than that ? it was about time for the boys to stop suppressing their feelings ( and for some to cry it all out ) . remember kids - holding it in is unhealthy and won't help at all !
> 
> but anyway , this is the second to last chapter , but i have decided to make somewhat of a series out of this ? i'll occasionally post one-shots and such of the boys going on dates and doing other fun things , so if y'all wanna see any more of that - be on the lookout for the series " six thousand and counting " !
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this small resolution to everything that's been happening so far ( though , they still have lots to talk about , and i promise they will in the next chapter ) .
> 
> thank you for reading and all the wonderful comments ! <3

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me [here](https://ineffable-soulmates.tumblr.com/) if you want . thanks for reading <3


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